


Extremely Irresistable

by exxcision (eggpainter)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Derek doesn't realize it's not his own ass, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sarcasm, Scott has terrible grammar, Snark, Technology Impaired Derek, The Sims 3, because he's dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:36:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggpainter/pseuds/exxcision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles idly clicks through The Sims 3, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, laptop in his, well, lap. He sends Derek to take a shower while his own sim sits at one of the computer desks writing his new book, "Stop Making Me Name This Shit Gimme Money", ah yes, a true poet he is, a master of words, in fact, THE master of words. He lifts a hand to scratch his cheek before checking their son's needs. Derek and his, son's needs. So what if he has a Sims game where he and Derek are happily married in a 300,000 simoleon mansion, with their floppy haired big-eyed son, Scott. It doesn't mean anything. He's not pining after Derek and his perfect, globular, spectacular, ass. Okay, never mind, he totally was, but that ASS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extremely Irresistable

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because I was playing my Sterek game on Sims 3 and Derek came out completely naked and I was like??? Then I decided the same thing needed to happen to Stiles and this monstrosity was born, sorry not sorry. This is my first Sterek fic and kinda my first fic in general, so, yeah, enjoy that. Not beta-read because I'm a newbie at this and I'm also garbage. <3

Stiles idly clicks through The Sims 3, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, laptop in his, well, lap. He sends Derek to take a shower while his own sim sits at one of the computer desks writing his new book, "Stop Making Me Name This Shit Gimme Money", ah yes, a true poet he is, a master of words, in fact, THE master of words. He lifts a hand to scratch his cheek before checking their son's needs. Derek and his, son's needs. So what if he has a Sims game where he and Derek are happily married in a 300,000 simoleon mansion, with their floppy haired big-eyed son, Scott. It doesn't mean anything. He's not pining after Derek and his perfect, globular, spectacular, ass. Okay, never mind, he totally was, but that ASS. He set Derek's sim to feed and play with Scott as soon as he finishes his shower and ironically enough, receives a text just then from the real-life Scott.

[r u gonna stay in bed all fuckin day or r u coming]

Stiles smirks to himself, unlocking his phone. There's no way he'd miss an opportunity to use an innuendo. Scott totally set himself up for it, too.

[bro who says im not already coming?? ;)]

[ur fucking gross]  
[be here before 6pm or im gonna kill u]

Stiles glances at the clock on his phone. Oh. 5:30. Pm. What the fuck. Well, he did agree to hang out with Scott and Isaac today, but he's absolutely sure it was 8 am. a few hours ago. He definitely hasn't gone downstairs for food, he definitely hasn't had on anything more than an old pair of checkered boxers, and he definitely hasn't stopped playing sims, all day. 

[k im coming excuse me princess]

The reply is nearly instant.

[good. asshole.]

Stiles locks his phone and rolls his eyes before throwing it absent-mindedly down his mattress. He's just going to save his game, that he has apparently been playing for nearly 10 hours, but something catches his eye.

Pixelated ass.

Right in front of Scott's high-chair, stands Derek's sim, and Derek's sim's ass. 

"Oh my god what."

Stiles pauses the game and doesn't bother bringing his eyebrows back down from their new occupancy in outer space, just shifts and leans closer to the screen, angling and scrolling in until the only thing visible on the screen is Derek's lower back, ass, and thighs. 

"Ohmyfuckinggodwhat." 

 

His voiced is slurred with shock but his body starts moving, he scrambles to grab his phone and immediately opens up Instagram. This is the best glitch to ever happen, because of a few reasons:  
1) ass  
2) Derek's ass  
3) DEREK'S ASS  
4) Stiles it's just a video game not his actual a-  
5) DEREK HALE'S FREAKING ASSSSS.  
Okay so there's a lot of pining, but what 16-year-old boy doesn't get an inappropriate crush on a 23-year-old werewolf man-child that constantly threatens to kill him and could probably do just that with the never-ending glares he likes to fix on him. Totally normal, come on folks it's the 21st century. Stiles has to bite his lip to stifle a giggle as he takes several glamour shots, all of this pixelated ass of perfection. He tags them all similarly, with idiotic captions, such as, "chillen w the bae's ass", "damn Derek, you know what to do with that big fat butt". As soon as the first one goes up, he gets a comment, it's from Erica.

[ericabaes: excuse me??????]

Several comments from his friends follow suit in a matter of minutes and Stiles has to clutch at his sides from laughing so hard. 

[scottymcall213: dude wtf now i know why your late]

[laheeeyyyxx: literally never wanted to see that please don't come to Scott's my nose wont be able to handle that shit]

[lydsgirl: finally succumbing to the palpable sexual tension that lingers in the air every time you two are in the same room??]

[dannylovesyou: wait isn't that your cousin?? wait are you gay?? Stiles??]

And others that have him gasping for breath all the same. He half-rolls half-falls off his bed after a good 15 minutes of Instagram notifications and endless laughter to pull some things together to head to Scott's for the night. Including putting on a baggy t-shirt and jeans he finds on the floor. He occasionally pauses, glances to his laptop where Derek's ass is still cast on display and hiccups into a giggle fit. He shakes his head smiling to himself, hoping Derek doesn't find out and immediately murder him. Because when or if Derek finds out, there will be attempted murder involved, and awkward explanations on what the Sims is to a socially-constipated werewolf who learned how to use "a Facebook" - oh, two months ago at best. Stiles finishes packing up his overnight bags, a.k.a. pajamas and video games, and heads to the bathroom to take a piss before leaving, no use in waiting till he gets to Scott's. When nature calls he chooses to answer. As soon as he finishes he hears a soft thud from his bedroom. He thinks to himself that it's probably nothing but irregardless drops his bags by the stairs and cautiously steps to peek into his room. Damn insatiable curiosity. Stiles slowly inches the door to his room open.

"Hello?"

No response. He cautiously steps inside to do a quick sweep of the room, in case it's a thief waiting for him to leave so he can steal everything, probably including Stiles'... Asstop. He never wants to close the game again. The booty is too beautiful. That or he's a horny teenage virgin that's getting emotionally attached to a pixalized representation of hotter-than-life werewolf that seems to like breaking into Stiles' room from the window and hiding in the corner, waiting, till he can - oh, and there it is. The cold pressure of his door is immediate against his back, and the warm pressure of two hands fisted into his shirt are immediate against his front. 

"Where the fuck did you get that?"

Stiles bats his eyelashes and attempts a dopey smile, nowhere close to Scott's level yet, but hopefully forming a convincing face of innocence. 

"Hi, Derek, what are you talking about?" 

There's a string of grumbles and growls, but after a moment one of the hands tangled in Stiles' shirt releases and dips into its owner's pocket. Immediately Stiles comes face to face with his new best friend, the Derek ass-shot. His gaze flickers for a moment as he realizes Derek is showing him something on Instagram, then he notices the phone, pink, bedazzled case.

"Why the hell do you have Erica's phone and why doesn't she keep it password locked?" 

The screen blackens and Stiles looks back up to captain huffywolf, trying to hide his amusement at the fact that ANYONE had thought it was an actual picture of Derek's ass. Especially considering one of those 'anyone's happens to be the actual owner of the actual ass. 

"She does. I know the password. Not important."

Stiles finds himself aggressively shoved back against the door that Derek is trying to force him to attempt osmosis through and only cringes for a second when his head slams into the wood. It's not anything Derek hasn't done before. 

"Where did it come from? How exactly did you get it?" 

Stiles couldn't help himself. He barks out a quick laugh, it's half nerves and half jesus-christ-im-pining-after-an-absolute-idiot. Derek's eyes narrow and Stiles catches a glint of red forming in his irises. Instinctively Stiles reaches out to pat the sourwolf's back but thankfully stops himself in time.

"Alright. Alright big guy you can let me down and I'll show you. You know that's not actually your ass right? Why would I have an actual photograph of your ass just laying around for my own recreational use. I'm not some kind of creeper that breaks into people's bedrooms by the window like this other guy I know."

He shoots Derek a look and waits to be released before continuing his rambling canter. Eventually Derek complies, with a growl though, of course.

"Right this way, front seat ticket to the show. Sadly there is no show and you're probably going to feel like an idiot for coming all the way down here just to shove me and against a wall and growl a little."

Stiles grabs his laptop from the front of the bed and shoves it toward a very suspicious Derek, sitting down on before mentioned bed.

"Here you go. See. It's a game."

Derek grumbles and squints at the screen like an angry old man trying to read the daily newspaper. After a moment he looks up to Stiles' face. Not one bit less intense than when he came in.

"This doesn't look like a game." 

Stiles sighs and makes grabby hands towards the laptop. Derek shoves it back to him and Stiles turns so Derek can watch the screen. He immediately feels puffs of hot breath against his neck and heats up a little.

Down dick.

Bad boy.

This is not the time for that.

Stiles blushes and continues on his mission to prove to Derek that it's a game. He resumes it and scrolls out to give Derek a better view of his Sim feeding baby Scott. Stiles glances back over his shoulder to see captain scowl glaring at the screen with a, you guessed it, scowl. 

"I uh," he gestures toward the screen, "it's uhm, a life simulation game? You're feeding your son... Scott."

Derek's eyes flick over to Stiles for a second before going back to the screen, now filled more with confusion than anger.

"Why would anyone want to play this? Why not just go out and do these things."

Stiles groans and deflates a bit, still watching Derek's face. How can he not get that?

"I don't know if you knows this but uh," he leans closer to Derek, "I'm a teenage boy, with absolutely no time to have a child, so I can't exactly just "go out and do it" y'know? Plus they'd never let me adopt, I'm only 16, and I haven't found another human that's interested in holding my hand let alone doing the dirty and maybe giving me all the children, and even then the children thing would only work if it was a girl, because despite a few things that I've read - don't ask - male pregnancy isn't a thing, that can happen, so." 

Derek's eyebrows raise a little as he watches Stiles speak before he once again turns to the game, still trying to figure out the appeal to it, though once he's looking at the game his eyebrows don't just raise a little, they borderline fly off of his face. 

"Stiles?"

"What?"

"Screen."

Stiles puts on a bitch face and turns back to the screen. When he sees it he pales, and his heart forgets to have a rhythm and skips multiple beats, speeding and slowing with dull thuds. His face immediately drops.

"Stiles?"

All Stiles can manage is a delayed and weak, "yeah?"

"Derek Hale thinks Stiles Stilinski is extremely irresistible." 

Stiles nods slowly.

"Husbands."

Stiles nods again.

"Speak, Stiles."

"Uhhhhhhhmmm..."

The laptop with the image of Sim Derek and Sim Stiles making-out and the gentle moaning sounds to match is slowly picked out of Stiles lap and placed on his desk. Stiles remains frozen in absolute horror while Derek continues in absolute silence. Picking up Stiles' phone from the bed, then a few books and pieces of paper that he had scattered on it and finally a pen.

Derek is preparing a deathbed for Stiles, he's sure of it.

Or maybe not, suddenly Stiles finds himself on his back, hands pinned above his head and an immense pressure and heat between his legs.

Oh hi dick is that you again?

Stiles nervously flicks his eyes away from the leg between his own and up toward the growling he hears above him. Derek is staring down, body arched over him, eyes with an underlying tint of red and eyebrows in the position that says "i want answers".

Stiles is aroused. Very aroused. His dick is not just twitching hello, it begins to harden between his legs. If the way his nostrils flare is any indication, Derek has received Stiles' dick's greeting. 

"Stiles."

Stiles mind immediately goes into overdrive. 'Please don't kill me. I'm going to jizz in my pants. My throat doesn't taste good I promise. Take me, right here, right now. Derek, no. Derek, yes.' Stiles tries to make at least one thought come out.

"Hnnyuuh, nmmpf."

He leaves his lips parted slightly after the mixture of sounds escapes his mouth, tongue darting out over his lower-lip quickly in nervousness. Derek's increasingly red eyes catch the movement and linger on his mouth before snapping back up. Derek shifts above him and his leg presses against Stiles' hardening issue. Stiles eyes squeeze shut and his mouth drops wide-open in a not-so-silent gasp as he squirms under Derek, fingers twitching above his head hoping to grip something. Derek's growling becomes lower and a little more predatory.

"Stiles. Why, on that game, are we married?" 

Keeping his eyes shut Stiles figures the only way he can make it out of this alive is with the truth. He takes in a deep breath and braces himself.

"Becauseimaybesortofhaveahugecrushthingonyouandhowcouldyounotnoticethisiprettymuchgetabonereverytimeyouwalkintotheroomderekhaleyouareanidiotpleasedontkillme."

Stiles waits to start bleeding out on his mattress, breathing heavily from the exertion it took to say all of that. After a more than few moments of silence he opens his eyes to look up with caution. Very aware of the fact that his face and neck are blotchy red with furious blushing, and probably his entire body as well. Above him is Derek, and surprisingly enough he doesn't look absolutely furious, he just looks... Pained? Stiles looks away again.

"Uh... I'm... Sorry I didn't tell you earlier I just..." He shifts awkwardly because he never quite got used to staying still for more than a minute, unless he was asleep. And of course, he ends up practically grinding his dick against Derek's thigh, causing him to arch his back off the bed and moan quietly. His head falls to the side and he lets out a few shuddering breaths before attempting to continue. "...didn' wan' it tah be awk-"

"I thought that was because of Erica."

"Wha?"

Stiles looks back toward Derek, head rolling to face him.

"The uh... scent of arousal."

Stiles knits his eyebrows together and shoots Derek a confused look. Whom certainly looks a bit more... wolf-y than the last time Stiles looked at him. Derek thinks Erica is the one getting Stiles all hot and bothered? But... Wait... 

"What about when it's just you in my room?"

Derek makes another pained face. He is also blushing now.

"You... You're 16, your room basically always smells like you jacked off all over it and humped the walls... actually that wouldn't surprise me." 

He quirks up one eyebrow and Stiles huffs out a laugh.

"Is that why you're here all the time instead of sending a beta minion to do your work? Don't want the other wolves to take a big whiff of the Stiles-only masturbathon? Also was that a joke?"

Derek's eyes narrow, fully red now.

"...yes."

"To what?"

"What you said."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Oh. Now Stiles is sure his entire body is blushing. An involuntary moan slips through lips as he thinks about Derek possessively caging him in and taking him. Stiles begins rocking his hips and grinding down against Derek's leg with absolute purpose, arching between tiny gasps.

"Stiles."

Derek's voice sounds strained, and Stiles is very happy about that. He licks his lips and tilts his head back to bare his neck. That was a good thing to do right? I mean, it's in a lot of the gay werewolf porn books he just happens to read. They're wrong about a lot of things though, like the whole male pregnancy thing... Yeah that isn't ever going to be a thing.

"What are you..."

Derek's voice comes out completely strangled this time, so obviously he has done something right. Stiles looks at Derek through his lashes, rocking his hips slowly. The Derek before him is about one second away from fully wolfing out, and shaking with the forced control of not doing exactly that.

"I'm trying to convince you to have sex wifhhhmmrmm-"

Stiles eyes shoot open at the pressure of lips against his, attempting a sloppy kiss that consists of mostly teeth and the pressure of an erection against his hip.

An erection.

Derek's erection.

Derek's Derection. 

Stiles scrambles to move with the kiss when he realizes he's laying limply in shock. His tongue darts out to probe Derek's mouth. Even if he doesn't have a whole lot of experience he has a good idea of what to do from his... Readings. As soon as Stiles begins to find a place working against Derek's lips, Derek pulls off, only an inch at first, stopping to study Stiles flushed face, but then all the way, breaking the last piece of their kiss which happened to be a thin strand of saliva connecting their lower lips. Derek shifts his hips off of Stiles causing him to buck into the air with a quiet whimper at the loss. One side of Derek's lips quirk in his signature not-a-smile-but-he-did-his-best before the hand not pinning Stiles' wrists to the bed moves lower between them, roughly gripping the back of the teen's thigh.

"This okay?"

Stiles nods dumbly. Abortive little thrusts of his hips continuing. His body is screaming to be touched and he is absolutely sure he is going to come in his pants in a few more seconds.

"Do whatever you want."

Derek rumbles above him and acts with the new permission. He pushes one leg up and to the side. With the new space he moves so that he's kneeling between Stiles' thighs, a hungry look etched into his face. He leans back down to Stiles, the hand moved from the leg to hold down the teen's hips. Derek mouths at the tendon in Stiles' neck following the moles down to his collarbone with smalls nips before dragging his lips back up, tracing along his throat and finishing with a soft kiss to the corner of Stiles' mouth. 

"Don't say that again. I really just want to rip your clothes off and just pound my cock right into you. Now. You aren't ready for that."

And that's it. Stiles arches his back up, pressing into Derek, straining his wrists against the werewolf's grip and comes in his pants. A loud moan is ripped from his throat accompanied by a course of small ones as Derek nuzzles into his neck, sucking a collection of small hickeys up the side. Stiles is absolutely sure he's covered in stubble-burn. After a minute his breathing slows and his mind gains back enough functionality to let him speak. 

"Sorry I... That was lame." 

Stiles grimaces in shame but Derek makes no move to stop licking and biting at his neck.

"Mm. You're a teenager it'll up again soon." 

A small strangled noise tries to escape Stiles throat.

"Well... You're the one that just humped a teenager."

"Mhm."

"Annnnnd I came in my pants."

"I know. I was there."

"It's getting pretty sticky."

"Yeah?"

"Wanna help me get out these sticky pants, Der?"

Derek huffs against his neck, but Stiles can tell he's affecting the older man. He's still a little blissed out, but as Derek said, he's a teenager, it'll be up again soon, probably more than soon with the current... situation. Derek moves up, releasing Stiles wrists and sitting back on his heels, splayed knees forcing Stiles legs to spread open wider. Stiles chances a glance down. His eyes catch on the very large erection bulge Derek is donning. Now free, his arms flail a little bit and he squeaks.

"I can uhm... I can... I have a mouth? If you want?" 

Derek grunts and shakes his head. He shifts back over Stiles caging him in with his arms, his mission to remove Stiles' stick pants forgotten. Derek kisses him forcefully, fucking Stiles' mouth with his tongue and sucking on his bottom lip roughly before biting it and pulling back off. Stiles whines and attempts to make a pouting face.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Derek apparently deems this unworthy of an answer.

"Keep your legs spread. Don't move. I'll be back."

Derek pushes off the bed and leaves Stiles. The teen sighs and peels his shirt off his body, feeling obnoxiously sticky. He hooks his thumbs into his jeans and boxers and shimmies out of them at the same time, toeing off his socks directly after. Stiles reopens his legs and brushes his fingers against his barely-hard dick. He immediately twitches in sensitivity but tries to work himself back to fully hard. Alone with his thoughts his minds starts to go over what just happened. He just humped Derek Hale. He just came in his pants underneath Derek Hale. He just offered to suck off Derek Hale. He's never even done that before. What would that taste like? His eyes go down to his hardening cock. There's still a bit of cum smeared on it. Wouldn't it be kind of the same...? Stiles blushes and wipes it onto his middle and index finger then brings them up to his mouth. His licks at them cautiously. Salty... But not... Horrible? He sucks the tips of his fingers into his mouth. Still salty, and still easy, but judging by the bulge Stiles just witnessed he'd have to take a lot more length than what the tips of his fingers are. His dick gives an interested twitch and Stiles eyes flutter shut. Imagining Derek's cock his sinks his mouth down his fingers to the base. His other hand drifts down to his now fully hard cock and strokes up it once before stopping himself. He doesn't want to come again before Derek can get back from whatever-the-fuck. Hopefully soon. He rests his hand on his stomach, fingertips brushing against the dark curls above his cock for a minute but his hand gets restless and he puts it back between his legs. Stiles brushes his knuckles against his balls before tilting his hips and spreading his legs open significantly more. He presses the pad of his index finger to his hole, circling it tentatively before pressing in. He can't come off of just this and it gives his fingers something to do. It slides in without too much of a fight due to his cum lubricating the way. He clenches around his finger when it twitches, then begins curling the finger and shallowly working it in and out of himself. He suddenly becomes very thankful for the fingers in his mouth as he stifles a desperate moan and whispers Derek's name around them. Distracted by his own work he doesn't hear the pounding of footsteps up the stairs and only looks up when his door slams back open. A very flustered Derek and a pair of very red eyes gleam back at him. Stiles drops his fingers from his mouth, but leaves it open, moving the hand down to his nipple with a trail of his saliva across his chest. He bucks his hips to fuck himself on his finger and draws up one of his knees further, maintaining eye-contact with a certain werewolf that isn't moving. Why isn't he moving? He needs to be moving.

"Dereeeek."

That seems to spur life back into Derek and he crosses the room in two strides before throwing himself back over Stiles and catching his lips in a needy kiss. 

"I leave for not even 5 minutes and you already... Jesus Stiles... so much better than any fantasy."

Fantasy? Derek has fantasized about this? This new knowledge immediately turns Stiles on just that much more.

Stiles wraps his legs around Derek and digs his heels into his lower back, dragging them down in an attempt to catch the waistband of Derek's pants and force them off of him. Derek grabs Stiles hand and yanks it away from his ass pressing the tip of his own finger toward the pucker that's now clenching around air. As soon as it presses in Stiles feels a small pinch of pain from the dry intrusion and tenses underneath Derek. The werewolf growls against Stiles lips and removes his fingers, lifting his hand to Stiles mouth, an expectant gaze settling on his face. The teen grabs onto Derek's wrist with one hand, the other settling low on his muscular forearm.

"Where'd you go off to?"

Stiles asks and doesn't wait for an answer before he licks up the length of Derek's middle and index fingers, stopping only to pulse his tongue across the pads of both.

"Mm. Yeah?"

Stiles smirks and leans away from the fingers of the werewolf whose brain he's pretty sure just turned into jelly.

"That's not an answer."

"Mmm."

"Derek."

"Hmmm?"

"Where'd you go off to?"

"There's uh..." 

Derek drifts away from talking and focuses his still red eyes onto Stiles lips.

"C'mon Der." 

"Oh I... Lube. I got it from my car."

"Why do you have that in your car?"

"In case."

"Of what?"

"Emergencies and stuff."

"In case you need to have car sex?" 

Derek growls and drops the packets of lube from his pocket next to Stiles' pillow.

"No, in case of sex pollen."

"That exists?"

"Yes." 

"What if I had lube in my room?"

"You don't, I sniffed for it, and lotion isn't enough."

Fair point. Stiles eyes flicker over the pile of lube packets.

"Hm, did you grab condoms too?"

"No, you have some in your nightstand. I can smell the latex, unless you've started stashing gloves."

Stiles furrows his brow and shifts over to it. He cranes his neck and sorts through the drawer, a faded box catches his eye. He grabs it and brings it up to his face, looking for an expiration date, he didn't even know these were in there, let alone how long they had been in there. And - yep - expired, over a year ago. Of course Stiles would get Derek Wetdream Hale in his bed and not have condoms. He groans and throws the box back in. 

"So, those are expired..." 

Stiles bites his lip nervously, fidgeting beneath Derek and suddenly feeling self-conscious. Derek is older, more experienced and definitely more prepared for this. Stiles is a virgin, that's so alone he didn't even bother to have condoms.

"I... Werewolves can't get diseases..." 

Stiles tenses underneath the older man. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay we don't have to, there are other ways to get off. Nothing you don't want." 

Derek presses a light kiss to where Stiles - now hammering - heart is. A quiet noise comes from the back of the teen's throat.

"No that's... Not... It's..."

Derek is carefully pressing kisses across Stiles chest, the thumb attached to the wrist Stiles is hanging onto gently brushing along his cheekbone and the other hand holds his hip. 

"It's... just really fucking hot and i'm trying to keep myself from coming prematurely again why the fuck are you wearing clothes please get out of them like 20 minutes ago."

Derek jerks up and exhales noisily while basically tearing off his shirt. He throws it against a wall and makes it down to his pants, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping them before shoving them down his thighs and kicking them off along with a pair of sinfully tight gray boxers. Derek's untouched erection springs out from a thatch of dark hair and slaps against his stomach, flushed red at the tip with pre-cum dribbling out slowly. Stiles absentmindedly moans and licks his lips searching over Derek's now exposed body.

"Hurry up I need you to fuck me through this mattress before I die of old age."

Derek stills above him and closes his eyes, breathing in a few times deeply, both of his hands now gripping Stiles hips with brutal force. Stiles knows he's going to have fingerprint-shaped bruises there and for some reason that turns him on even more. 

"Stiles. I told you not to talk like that."

"I kinda always say whats on my mind in case you haven't noticed, I can't help it. And that's what's there, you fucking me, so if you wouldn't mind..."

"I have to prep you first."

Stiles whines and grabs a packet of lube, slapping it against Derek's chest. Derek's eyes, looking feral and red, open and he quirks a questioning brow. 

"The faster you get on with it the faster we get to the fucking."

Derek nods and grabs the packet tearing the foil open with his teeth before squeezing some onto his fingers. He spreads it evenly with his thumb and finally his hand is back between Stiles' legs. The first finger pushes in slowly but is met with no resistance. Derek sinks in down to his knuckle and makes a satisfied rumbling sound before curling the finger inside Stiles. Stiles gasps and squeezes Derek's sides with his legs, clenching around the finger with a rapid pulsing. It feels so good to finally have something in him again. Even if it wasn't exactly, the thing he really wanted. A second fingertip grazes across his rim and massages at the skin surrounding it.

"Fuck, Derek, yes, more."

Derek grunts and complies, pushing in with a second finger. Stiles would be lying if he said it felt amazing, it burned and it hurt, but it wasn't anything he couldn't take. He had enough late night solo fun-times involving lotion and his fingers to know this much. He moans and bites down into his lower lip circling his hips against Derek's slowed fingers. They pulse in and out slowly but eventually pick up speed, curling and scissoring with no particular rhythm. The pain dulls and quickly disappears stemming completely into pleasure and from pleasure into an aching need.

"More, Derek."

Stiles lifts his arms above his head and spreads his legs open a little wider for effect. Derek's fingers scissor open and another slips in between them. A moan simultaneously escapes from both their throats. Stiles is pleased to find the third finger didn't bring any pain and rocks down with his hips to meet the pushing of Derek's fingers. All three fingers curl inside of him, hitting his prostate, and he arches his back off the bed, casting his head back and gasping with pleasure. Derek begins a rhythm of curling and uncurling, abusing his new-found knowledge of the spot that has Stiles seeing stars and leaking pre-cum. 

Stiles shifts his hips back until he removes himself from Derek's fingers before he brings both hands shakily up to Derek shoulders and flashes a sloppy smile.

"I'm ready."

Derek looks down at him with the sweltering intensity of the sun in summer.

"Stiles, are you sure? You're a virgin."

Stiles scowls.

"I am absolutely not a virgin after that."

"That's beside the point..."

"Yes, Derek, I'm sure."

"But it might hur-"

Tired of hearing Derek make excuses, Stiles abruptly cuts him off by yanking him down and kissing him. He lets Derek lean back up and looks up at him with his best puppy eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I've had... Experiences... by myself... Not quite as big as your cock, but... I'm pretty sure I can take it... Just, uh... Go slow?"

Derek nods and leans down for another soft peck to the teen's lips, kneeling back and emptying the packet of lube onto his own cock, stroking it slowly while staring down at Stiles with lidded eyes. Stiles squeaks and does his best to tilt his hips up to Derek, digging his teeth hard enough into his lip that he tastes blood. Derek slips the hand not stroking his cock under Stiles and onto his lower back, lifting and supporting Stiles' weight until he has him into a position with the teen's ass fully bared up to the older man. Derek cautiously licks his lips and lines the tip of his cock to Stiles' entrance, pressing until it gives and the head of it slips in. Stiles cries out noisily, digging his fingers into Derek's shoulder. The werewolf's other hand releases his own cock and drops to the bed next to Stiles' chest to support his weight as he curls over the teen, pressing in slowly. After moments of stifled whimpers and drawn out moans, Derek's balls press against Stiles ass. He stills before pulling out just an inch and sinking back in slowly. Stiles feels like he might just die. Right there, with Derek above him. Derek repeats the motion a few more times, each one earning a throaty moan from Stiles. The teen's legs tighten around Derek's back and he arches his body to reach Derek's lips, initiating a long kiss that is a small amount of lips actually touching and a large amount of softly panting against each other's mouths. Stiles begins to rock his hips alongside Derek's torturously slow rhythm which draws out a breathy moan from the werewolf and a whimper from the boy.

"Derek, you can... Harder... Fuck please, harder."

Derek growls and presses down to Stiles, their bodies flush against each other and now giving friction to Stiles' dick before he sharply pulls out and pistons his cock in, continuously repeating the action at a pace Stiles could only accredit to the other man's supernatural disposition. Stiles grips Derek's shoulders as a slew of loud and desperate moans flow out of him, pairing with Derek's grunts of pleasure. Even though he already came once Stiles feels his orgasm approaching fast, tightening in his balls and curling in his gut. He tries to keep it off for as long as he can, but the friction of Derek's abs pairing with his unrelenting thrusts brushing Stiles' prostate each time, he ends up lasting only a few minutes before his cock twitches and erupts between them. 

"Fuck, Derek, fuck, FUCK." 

Stiles leaves his head thrown back and mouth agape, continuing to moan profanities as his over-sensitive ass flutters around Derek, who is now grinding into him forcefully. He has a fleeting feeling of embarrassment for coming again so soon but then Derek's hips stutter and the muscles pressed against Stiles tighten abruptly before he feels the older man's own orgasm release inside him. The thought of Derek's cum being inside him makes Stiles moan lowly, but he's too spent to even attempt getting it up again. Derek's lips press into Stiles neck and he breathes heavily, riding out his orgasm.

"Stiles I... Fuck..."

The teen lifts his numb-feeling hands to cup both Derek's cheeks and softly kisses his nose. 

"I liked that, a lot."

Derek nods in agreement, a small smile on his lips before he collapses to the side of Stiles, grabbing the boys hips and man-handing him to lay on his chest, tucking Stiles head under his chin and softly stroking his lower back. Stiles lays still for a moment before he begins squirming, because, holy shit. That just happened. He, Stiles Stilinski, is no longer a virgin. Derek Hale just fucked him. In his bed. Derek Hale.

Derek's voice ended up pulling him out of his whirlwind of thoughts.

"What is it Stiles? Can you not just enjoy the afterglow?"

"I'm not a virgin."

Derek sighs, loudly, but his voice definitely has a teasing lilt to it. 

"No, you aren't."

"You just fucked me."

"Yes, I did."

"Are we like, boyfriends now?"

Suddenly Derek tenses and tilts Stiles chin up. The teen finds himself face to face with a very serious werewolf, who for some reason, also looks a bit frightened.

"Do... do you want to be?"

Stiles rolls his eyes and flops back down onto Derek's chest.

"Of course, dumbass."

Derek relaxes underneath him noticeably, and they share another moment of silence, before Stiles interrupts it again.

"So..."

Derek releases the most put-upon sigh Stiles has ever heard. 

"Really Stiles?"

"What?"

"You really can't just enjoy afterglow, can you?"

"Fuck you Derek i'm enjoying this but I also really wanna say something."

"When do you not?"

"I could leave. Right now. I could go to Scott's and ignore you forever."

Derek growls quietly and tightens his hold on Stiles' back. 

"Fine. What is it?"

"Would you say... Derek Hale finds Stiles Stilinski extremely irresistible?"

Derek sighs, loudly, and uses his weight to flop the teen over and lay on top of him. Stiles squawks and flails madly.

"Hey, what are you doing, I was super comfortable!" 

"I'm hoping this way I'll suffocate you and you'll shut up."

"Whatever, you know you love all this."

They both still, and Stiles immediately regrets his choice of words, but after only a small moment Derek relaxes and continues nuzzling against Stiles. 

"Yeah, I think I do."

\---

Stiles never goes to Scott's.

\---

And if another picture of Derek's ass ends up on Instagram, his real ass this time, he doesn't need to know.


End file.
